Harry drifted up from his doze to the notion that kisses were raining from his shoulder to the base of his neck. "Wake up, you lazy lump."
"Mm, wasn't asleep." He shifted around to kiss Severus sleepily. He took Severus' hand and examined it, tracing the heart line on his palm. "Do you think my animal would be a werewolf if I became an Animagus?"
"Hmm. That's an intriguing question. We will never know." Harry's insides swelled at 'we.' "In order to become an Animagus, you need to hold the leaf of a mandrake in your mouth for at least a full lunar cycle. Unfortunately, you are not a man for the whole of this time period. Has your Patronus changed?" He looked thoughtfully at Harry. He probably loved this kind of academic stuff. He felt a pang for Hermione, who would yearn to be asking him all kinds of things as she researched case studies.
"I don't know. I haven't been…in the right frame of mind to cast one."
"Indeed?" Severus freed his own hand to take Harry's right and brush his nose down Harry's scar.
"I can try and give it a go." Harry untangled their hands, summoned his wand and thought about the defeat of Voldemort, and how his scar would never hurt again. "Expecto Patronum!" A bright silvery mist erupted from his wand and blinked away from existence. Harry's happy memory faded into disappointment.
"What memory did you use before?"
"I'm not sure I'm any good at these spells any more." He grimaced.
Severus looked at him in disgust. "Oh, do buck up, Harry. You could do it at thirteen, and you can assuredly achieve it now."
"Thanks for the tea and sympathy." He tried again, and for a split second a large animal burst out of his wand. It was blurrier than his usual corporeal Patronus, and flickered away.
On his third attempt, he concentrated hard on the memory of his thrill at running with the horse in the forest. "Expecto Patronum!" A great bright horse flew out of Harry's wand, and the bedroom was aglow with silver light.
Severus got out of bed, fully nude, and was mesmerised. It trotted over to him and bent its forehead to touch Severus'. He reached out towards its face, before it peered around at Harry and winked out of existence.
Harry's mouth was shaped around the word 'what'? He cleared his throat. "I—can you explain that?"
Severus looked a mixture of mildly impressed and at a loss for words. He shook his head.
Harry continued, "Do you know that horse?"
Severus sat back down on the bed and pulled the blankets over his lap and Dark Mark. "Yes. As do you."
"Um…" Harry cleared his throat. "Are you…?"
"An Animagus?" Severus supplied.
Harry cocked his head to one side. "…A gorgeous black horse?"
"I believe they should rescind your Order of Merlin. Dolts, such as yourself, should not be in receipt of them." His lips twitched.
Harry burst out laughing, and shuffled over to Severus to kiss him on his lips, cheeks, chin, forehead, nose, and lips again. "You came with me?" he said, in between kisses.
"Of course," he replied gravely.
"How long have you been…?" Harry stopped kissing him to run his fingers through his hair.
"…able to turn into a Friesian horse? About a month."
"You mean to say you've been…?" It was too much to hope or hear.
"Fool enough to perceive the perils of attempting to become an Animagus, and then upon successful achievement, frolicking with a known werewolf at the full moon? Yes," he said. "Did you know that when horses are alone, people give them stablemates such as a cat to stop them going mad?"
"Did you know that I'm in—"
Severus clapped his palm over Harry's mouth. "Do not speak of it. I dread the beauty of such a thing."
Harry kissed the heel of Severus' hand. After he stroked Severus' sides, the hand dropped. He leaned in for a kiss, which he hoped would convey the words he was not yet permitted to speak. Instead, he said, "You've given me more than I could ever dream of," up against his lips.
As a child, he could only have what Dudley discarded, and all his family were dead. Now, although he couldn't possibly understand how he could be so lucky, Severus was his family.
When would he leave? When Severus realised what a headcase he was, or worse, when the public at large found out?
Harry cupped his face. His eyes fluttered closed. Harry held his breath, savouring a rare privileged moment to stare at his lover. He clambered into his lap to kiss an eyelid, the corner of his mouth, the scars on his throat. He leaned his head back to bare more of his pale slender neck, and made a happy little sound.
"You have awoken feelings that I thought were long dead within me," said Severus. "Use them well."
That afternoon, Severus Apparated them both to a steep hill. Harry turned slowly around in a circle, buffeted by the wind, before spotting the turrets of Hogwarts a few miles away. It looked like a toy in the distance, and the lake, cliffs, and mishmash of towers were unmistakable. "Wow! I didn't know you could see Hogwarts from here."
"Alone, you cannot. Typically, it is a forgettable ruin; however, the headmasters and headmistresses can view it from this vantage point. I wished to verify whether the castle still considered me headmaster."
Harry nodded. "This is so amazing. My first proper home."
"And mine," Sev murmured.
Harry sat on the grass, and pulled Severus down with him. He took the liberty of leaning against Severus' shoulder; Severus put his arm around Harry and pointed out Scottish crossbills, an osprey, a red squirrel. They could hear a distant bee bumbling about in the pink bell heather. Harry flopped his head into Severus' lap, and described the bottomless mint tea in the Turkish baths of Spain, and the green parakeets of Málaga and Kensington Gardens. Severus cradled him, and just listened.
"Let us go to Hogwarts," Severus said, pulling Harry up, and holding out an arm. He Side-Along Apparated them to the bowels of the Forbidden Forest.
Harry was unafraid with Severus by his side. He seemed to know the forest well, and within minutes a Thestral began to trot alongside them, barely visible in the darkness of the tree trunks. Severus threw an arm across Harry's chest to still him, and he extended his palm to the Thestral. Its white eyes glowed eerily through the branches, and it picked its way towards them. Its black skeletal face was a welcome sight for Harry, who had met the majority of the herd.
"Hello, Caoimhe," Severus said. "Did you miss me?" He watched the Thestral snuffle his hand, and whispered, "Shall we fly? It's a long walk."
"Yeah," Harry breathed. "If it'll let us."
"She will. Hop on."
Severus patted the Thestral on her neck, and gave Harry a leg up. Severus climbed up behind him with quick agility, and called out, "You know what to do."
For a moment the Thestral did nothing at all, then she unfolded her leathery wings in a swooping movement; she crouched, then rocketed upwards so fast and so steeply that Severus' arms clamped around him and his own clenched tightly around her neck. He shut his eyes and ducked into the silken mane as they broke through the topmost branches of the oaks and pines and soared out into the blue sky.
Harry hadn't moved this fast for many years: she streaked over the trees, her vast wings barely beating; the air slapped Harry's face; eyes scrunched up against the rushing wind; Severus' legs pressing in behind his; robes flapping out like tails.
In no time at all, she descended and brushed the grass of a clearing as lightly as a shadow, and they slid from her back. Severus pressed his face into her mane and muttered his thanks. Within minutes, they emerged from the woods to have a fantastic vista of the castle bathed in the summer light.
"Is this allowed?" asked Harry.
"I was unaware you had such a penchant for obeying the rules; you never gave that impression before." Severus raised an eyebrow at him.
Hand-in-hand, they passed Hagrid's deserted cabin, and skirted around the Whomping Willow. He led Harry to the Quidditch pitch. "What are we doing?"
"You are going flying whilst I talk with the portraits. As you can imagine, they were my only companions during the worst year of my life. I would like to take this opportunity while the school is deserted."
As they reached the broom shed, Harry was just pulling out his wand to unlock it, when Severus placed his hand on the door and it swung open.
"Being with the headmaster has its benefits, sir." Severus met Harry's cheeky grin with a startled look—perhaps he wasn't ready to be teased just yet. "Why are you making me fly?" He fingered the broom handle of an old Cleansweep Eight.
"Because you love it," he said simply. "I'll come and get you in half an hour."
Harry had a sneaking suspicion that brooms, like horses, knew when you were afraid or excited. He could feel the thrum of magic vibrating beneath his fingers. Joy lit up his face. "Thank you for bringing me here."
Severus nodded once, and Harry pulled him in for a peck on the lips before he swept away.
Harry mounted the broom and kicked hard against the pitch and up, up he soared, wind rushing through his hair, robes whipping out behind him. He spiralled higher and higher, and hovered to view the distant black dot of Severus reaching the front doors. The fierce joy that eclipsed the sorrow in his heart now turned to nostalgia. Hagrid's hut, set on fire. The Shack in the distance, where Severus lay bleeding. The Astronomy Tower, lightning struck. But he also recalled laughing around the lake with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Muddy practices with Oliver, Angelina, Katie, Alicia, Fred and George. Butterbeer, companionship, and spectacularly losing at chess in the Gryffindor Tower.
He flew up to the owlery and dismounted. At least fifty sets of beady eyes gawked at him. Allowing the air to sting his face, he didn't know if his eyes were running from the wind or from missing his first friend, Hedwig.
Next, he encircled the Astronomy Tower, and he was so high now that the old Cleansweep was beginning to judder and veer off to the right. He no longer felt a sense of awed horror, and if anything, admired Severus even more. At this height, he thought he could make out a dark tentacle near the surface of the expanse of water, and fondly remembered Professor Dumbledore speaking Mermish at the side of the lake.
The pitch grew larger and larger as he returned, thighs aching from lack of practice. He sat at the top of the Quidditch stand where Padfoot had scared the life out of him at the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match.
What would Sirius think about him and Severus? He probably would have hated the idea. Hopefully he would have accepted the 'werewolf issue': Ron, Sirius, and Severus, maybe even Bill and Fleur—all names that would accept him if they knew.
Harry returned the broomstick to the shed before walking up towards the giant oaken front doors to meet Severus on his way back. The trees lining the endless drive waved in the breeze, and he contented himself watching the winged boars sleeping atop the tall stone columns flanking the wrought-iron gates.
It wasn't long until Severus joined him on the step. Harry shifted to rest his head on Severus' shoulder, and snaked an arm around him to pull him in tighter. "Thank you for bringing me here." Sev said nothing but buried his nose in Harry's hair. "How was your old office?"
"Good. Very good."
Harry didn't push him for details, and they sat in companionable silence for a while.
"We need to talk," Severus said after some time.
Harry's heart thudded. He pulled away and looked up at him. "What's wrong? Is it your nan?"
"An old associate of mine has recommended me for a job. It would be a new beginning."
"Oh." Harry's stomach dropped like a rock tumbling into a canyon. "I'm happy for you. What is it?"
"Deputy Headmaster and Professor of Advanced Potions and Charms to the upper years at Durmstrang Institute."
Harry's ears buzzed. "When?"
"Term starts in less than four weeks."
Harry's nostrils flared, and he got up. "I see."
"Wait—"
"Have a pleasant life," he spat. "What was this, some kind of goodbye?" The pebbles on the flagstones rattled.
"Calm down." Severus grasped Harry's arm. "Breathe. You are upset and your magic is all over the place."
A flagstone nearby cracked in two. Harry tore his arm away. "Goodbye, Severus." He walked away.
"My entire life has revolved around you," Severus called after him. "And you have formed this…attachment."
"What?"
"Madness. Utter madness, like Lucifer and an angel. You believe you need me. Do you see wherein the problem lies?"
"Fine. I get it. You think this is about a potion, you think I'm fucked up. This is such a pointless…you're leaving—" Severus had stood up, alarmed. "Well. That's how it is." Harry spun around. "Don't—I can't look at you."
Harry's feet took him to the Shrieking Shack. He lay down on a tattered bed and stared at the ceiling. His ears buzzed. He was numb.
He did not comprehend how long he lay there in that dim room, his mind a black smog. It was over. All over.
Eventually, he called, "Kreacher?"
The elf appeared with a crack into the now-dark room. "Master Harry, you is not well." Kreacher laid the back of his hand over his forehead.
Harry's teeth chattered in grief. "I'm fine," he said. "Please—can you take me home?"
"Certainly, sir."
A/N Caoimhe is an Irish name and is pronounced kweeva.